


Whole Again

by xxCat1989xx



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Fluff, M/M, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxCat1989xx/pseuds/xxCat1989xx
Summary: Mitch is home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't resist. Sorry.
> 
> Wrote in about twenty minutes.
> 
> Thanks & enjoy,  
> Cat x

It has been three days. Three whole days. Seventy-two hours since Scott last saw his best friend, as he waved him into the Uber that was taking Mitch away. Away from Scott.

For three days Scott has sulked and stewed and wandered around aimlessly. Lost. Lost in his head. Lost in their home. Alone.

It’s been horrible. And scary. And Scott. Does. Not. Like. It.

Don’t get him wrong, Mitch is an amazing person; such a good friend to fly out to Texas to support one of his best friends on stage. He’s always been like it. Ready to support. Ready to stand by. And Scott is not so selfish to ask him to stay.

He would _never_ ask him to do that. Never ever ever.

But he misses him. Misses him so much.

Sure there’s always someone to hang out with; Tyler or Mario or Jake or Kirstie. But it isn’t the same.

Scott feels like he hasn’t seen the sun for days. Feels like his right arm has been cut off (he has to keep checking that it hasn’t). Feels like he’s missed the bottom step on the stairs and his stomach has dropped out his feet.

Scott thought livestreaming would help. Thought talking to fans would keep the loneliness away. They understand, in their weird obsessive ways, how much Mitch means to him. They always keep him entertained. Telling him stories or how much they love him. Asking him to sing their favourite songs or asking him about Wyatt.

None of them can replace Mitch, however.

Not even talking to Mitch on FaceTime for the two minutes or so he got to yesterday was enough to fill the void in his heart that Mitch being away creates.

And now Scott’s sat outside a restaurant waiting to go in. Waiting to meet up with people who are probably lovely, who he _knows_  are lovely, but all he can think about is the fact that Mitch is home. He’s in LA. He’s a stones-throw away rather than a thousand or so miles. And yet, he’s not by his side.

Not yet.

Mitch promised when he text that he would meet up with him after brunch. Promises that he’s only dropping his bag off and would meet him at the restaurant in half an hour, ready to move onto the next place. But Scott can’t promise that when he sees him, he won’t want to bail on the next place. Won’t just want to drive back home, Mitch by his side, and cuddle on the sofa until someone makes them leave.

Scott checks the time on his phone again. He knows he’s being rude. He’s checked the time a million times since he sat down at the table, apologising profusely at the people sat with him, who chuckle and tell him it’s okay, that they saw all the fuss on Twitter about Mitch being away, that they understood.

It makes him blush and choke on the sip of water he’d just taken. People get it so wrong.

Finally, the bell above the door chimes and without even turning around, he knows who’s walked in. Scott can feel the warmth, the laughter, the joy that his best friend creates wherever he goes.

Scott picks the napkin up off his lap and wipes his sweaty hands nervously. And then he turns. Mitch is standing in the open doorway, looking around the room, trying to spot him amongst the patrons that are taking advantage of an early lunch in peace.

He can tell the exact moment that Mitch spots him. Sees a smile develop on his beautiful face; all white teeth and squinty eyes.

“Excuse me,” Scott says to his companions, standing from the table, dropping his napkin onto his empty plate. He walks across the restaurant, dodging around the tables and people milling about.

“Hi,” Mitch greets, but Scott doesn’t let him finish before he’s enveloping his best friend in his arms. He closes his arms around Mitch’s waist, while Mitch puts his around his shoulders and clings. Clings so tightly, Scott can feel his shirt riding up the bottom of his back, but at this moment in time, he really does not care if people think they are lovers embracing. Doesn’t care if photos get taken or gossip starts.

Mitch is home and in his arms and Scott feels whole again.

**Author's Note:**

> Social links in bio.


End file.
